


At the Buzzer

by BergaraHoe (flannelfeelings)



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Babies, Basketball, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Husband Jake Peralta, Jake Perlata/Amy Santiago, Jake teaches amy to play basketball, Love, Mild Angst, Minor Injuries, Pregnancy, Pregnant Amy Santiago, Protective Jake Peralta, So so mild, Spoilers for S7, Sweet jake peralta, Takes place in S7, amy santiago - Freeform, i love these two so much, jake peralta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/BergaraHoe
Summary: After a visit to the doctor revealed Amy's blood pressure is a little higher than ideal, Jake devises a plan to relax his wife and keep their unborn baby in tiptop shape.However, Jake seems to always underestimate his wife's competitive nature.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	At the Buzzer

**Author's Note:**

> idek what this is this is my first b99 fic and i just love peraltiago so much and theyre having a baby and jake peralta is a whole ass man and i love him and amy santiago more than life
> 
> maybe ooc its my first one so pls dont judge too harshly, i also have no beta reader so sorry for any mistakes
> 
> I hope u enjoy tho! LMK ur thoughts! 
> 
> peraltiago 4ever

Jake was very aware- probably more than anyone- that his wife did not like sports. She’d expressed it many times, she preferred intellectual, indoor activities. Amy liked making binders, and doing crosswords and unscrambling words.

Jake would never try to change that about her, in fact, it was one of the things he found so endearing about his all-around amazing wife.

However, at a recent doctor’s appointment to check on the growing health of their fetus (just passed the 25 week mark!) their OB expressed concern that Amy’s blood pressure was high. This immediately set Jake on alert, though Amy didn’t seem too concerned. When they asked how to rectify the issue, the doctor recommended getting out and doing some casual exercise.

Well, what better way to relax than a friendly game of basketball?

Amy resisted the idea at first, but Jake was insistent, assuring her he’d teach her the ropes and she’d have fun. Of course with her being pregnant it wasn’t going to be aggressive like the one-on-one he played with friends growing up, coming back home with bruised knees and bleeding elbows. But he vowed that once the baby was out and Amy was no longer a vessel for safe passage into the world, he wouldn’t go easy on her and they’d play to the other’s demise.

Nothing got Amy on board quite like a fight to the death.

Which is how they ended up at the basketball court down the street from their apartment building. It was a Thursday, and their only day off together this week. This time of week was perfect, the courts were nearly empty with kids at school and citizens working regular 9-5s. They had the entire court to themselves.

Upon arrival, Jake had to stop for a moment and admire how cute Amy looked in her workout gear. She’d been relying pretty heavily on leggings as she passed into the second trimester and today was no different. It was rare to see her in anything but her sergeants uniform, so he relished in the sweet shape of her bottom in the tight-fit pants, and smiled warmly at the curve of her belly in the dry-fit tee.

“Just so we’re clear.” He said seriously, “This is to _relax_ you.” His expression was pointed, “So don’t get all Amylike and try to kill me, okay? We’re taking it easy and just casually shooting some hoops.”

Amy rolled her eyes, “Someone’s worried he’s gonna get his ass kicked.”

Jake snorted, tossing the ball up in the air and balancing it neatly on his index finger for a moment, before it bounced off to the court. He and Amy both lurched for it, but she snagged it up before he could, smirking.

“Pregnant, and _still_ faster than you.” she taunted.

“You...already looked up all the rules, didn’t you?” He realized after a moment. Of course she had. Amy Santiago wasn’t one to let others teach her something if she could learn it herself.

“I’m sure it’s more difficult in practice.” she shrugged nonchalantly, “But I did read _The Big Book of Basketbal_ l in its entirety. So...don’t try to travel.”

Shaking his head with an unsurprised laugh, “Alright Santiago, you wanna play it that way? No mercy. One-on-one, no help. Best man wins.”

He stuck his hand out for a shake. Amy eyed his outstretched fingers curiously, “What do you want if you win?”

“You give me a foot rub _and_ cook dinner tonight.” Jake offered with a wag of his eyebrows.

“Hmmm…” She nodded thoughtfully, “I don’t love that, but I’ve agreed to worse. And if I win?”

He replied instantly, “If you win, I will walk into the Nine-Nine tomorrow and tell everyone my pregnant wife beat my ass at basketball. No jokes.”

He could see she was intrigued, “I want to be there for it.” She stipulated

“I won’t do it unless you’re present.”

“You’ve got a deal Peralta.” And they shook on it.

In Amy’s defense, Jake should’ve known better than to encourage her competitive spirit. But he couldn't help it, he had his own degree of bullheadedness and was never able to resist a challenge she threw down. It was one of the reasons their relationship was so much fun.

However, this was supposed to be in the spirit of relaxing her, not riling her up. And he would later feel like a pretty terrible husband for not making that his priority.

The game commenced, and he found himself surprised and unsettled by how easily Amy moved into the role of an athlete. She was normally rather clumsy and uncoordinated, and it definitely showed in her awkward gait and sloppy stumbles (the baby belly probably didn’t help) but she was determined. He’d underestimated how much she really wanted to win.

After about a half hour, they were both out of breath, taking a pause by the hoop to guzzle down cold water and towel off their faces. He glanced over at her with small concern; her skin was glistening with sweat and her cheeks were flushed red with exertion. The doctor had said _light_ exercise...were they overdoing it? He’d bow out of the bet if it meant keeping Amy healthy.

“Should we call it off?” he asked after a sip of water, still eyeing her nervously.

Amy scoffed breathlessly, “Why, cause I’m two points ahead?”

“No, lunatic, cause you look pretty exhausted and I don’t need my pregnant wife collapsing on the basketball court. People might think I’m a bad husband if I let you _Lebron_ yourself to an early grave.” he tried to keep his tone light and not convey much genuine concern, he didn’t want her to worry too much, or think he was insinuating she couldn’t handle herself.

The stubborn woman rolled her eyes, setting her water bottle down and plucking up the basketball, “Game’s almost over anyway. My ball. I’m two points ahead at 9-7. You’re going down.”

Wasn’t much he could say to that. They picked up where they’d left off, but this time, Amy seemed to have a new ferver to win. Jake’s concern had of course made her feel more like she needed to prove herself, and she had started throwing elbows into his ribs. He’d complain if it actually hurt, but he of course didn’t reciprocate. He was willing to just let her win at this point, so she didn’t go so damn hard.

“Jake.” Amy stopped running as she was halfway to the goal, turning to him, expression exasperated.

“Ames, you okay?” He stopped abruptly, moving toward her in an instant with arms outreached.

“You’re not even trying!” she complained, gesturing in frustration, “You aren’t blocking me at all.”

Jake sighed gently, scratching the back of his neck, “Sorry Ames I just...I mean, what do you want me to do? Corndog you and steal the ball? That’s a bad look.”

She frowned for a moment, “Do you _usually_ do that?”

He shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. Listen, we’re supposed to be out here helping you _relax_ , not stressing you out and exerting you. I just want you to take it a little easier.”

“Jake, competition _does_ relax me.” She let out a breath, gnawing on her lower lip before she met his eyes and continued, “This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks. I haven’t thought about baby stuff, or missing work, or hospitals,or money or anything stressful since we started playing. For the first time since I got pregnant, it was just you and me, goofing off and beating eachother up like we always do.” her eyes were gentle, “I missed that, so much. You’ve never treated me like a fragile flower before, I really don’t want it to be a thing.”

Jake hated to see her hurting, even slightly. He moved closer and took her clammy hands, “Amy, when you’re feeling stressed, all you have to do is _talk_ to me. I know I can’t say anything to magically fix all these things, and trust me, I’m stressed about them too. But I hate to think that you’ve been worried and stressing and bringing up your blood pressure and I had no idea and did nothing to help.” He sighed quietly, “I didn’t mean to treat you... _fragile_. You _know_ I don’t think that. But you _are_ carrying our baby right now. I don’t think I’m in the wrong for looking out for you both. Isn’t that what dads do?”

Amy smiled shortly, “Yeah, the good dads.” She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on his mouth, “Sorry for being Amylike. You’re right. I’m overdoing it.”

“ _Never_ apologize for being Amy.” He chastised gently, “She’s my most favorite person.”

Amy chuckled, glancing behind her at the hoop, then back to her husband, “Can we finish the game? Bets off, okay? We can even throw out the score.”

“No way, loser.” Jake snagged the ball from her hands and began dribbling toward the hoop, “I’m closing the gap!”

“Thief!” She shrieked, sneakers squealing on pavement as she pursued him. Just as he was about to shoot the ball, Amy’s leg came out and swung underneath his ankle. He tripped forward, losing his balance as the ball flew off into another dimension and his nose cracked against the court.

Blinding pain shot through his face, and he let out an uncontrolled groan. He could feel thick liquid seeping out onto the pavement, soaking his nose and mouth.

“Jake!” Amy was on her knees beside him, hands touching his hair, shoulders, everywhere she could get them on, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize that would trip you so easily! Oh god, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s okay it’s okay!” He sat up quickly, though he regretted it as dizziness blurred his vision, “We’re not stressing, everything chill. Everything is great, and you’re _not_ stressed and neither am I.” he assured her, though his voice was shaking slightly from the pain.

“Your nose!” She squealed, eyes wide with panic, “I am _so_ sorry-”

Jake pulled his palm away from his face, balking at the stain of red blood on his skin, but he forced himself to remain calm, “Ames, I’ve had way worse. Remember when you shot me?”

She grimaced.

“Not helpful.” he realized, then chuckled, “Amy I’m okay. Do you know how many times I came home from the courts with some sort of injury? That’s the mark of a damn good game, if you ask me.”

Amy scurried across the court and grabbed Jake’s sweat towel, pressing it into his face, “Tilt your head, apply pressure. I’m gonna go ahead and send in my application for the world's worst wife as soon as we get home.”

“Ames-”

“You win the game, okay? Tonight I give you a foot rub and I make dinner. I’ll even make the enchiladas of my mom’s that you like.”

Jake chuckled though it was muffled underneath the towel on his face, “Well, since it’s like the only thing you can cook…”

“Jake!” She punched his bicep teasingly, but a small smile was dawning on her face.

“Quit beating yourself up babe, I’m fine.” he pulled the towel away to reveal his nose was no longer bleeding, though the beginnings of a purple bruise on the bridge were starting to from, “Only thing we have to worry about now is my schnoz getting any bigger than it already is.”

Amy leaned in and pressed a gentle peck on the tip of his nose, which made him smile. She spoke softly, “I love your nose the way it is. I hope our baby gets your nose.”

“Oh Ames, don’t wish that on an innocent kid.”

“Let’s go home.” she said with a small laugh, reaching around his torso to help stand him up. His legs were a bit wobbly, but they didn’t betray him. Other than the lingering pain in his face, he felt fine. She walked him back to their stuff and hiked the duffel up on her own shoulder.

“Amy, no let me-”

“Jake I just turned your nose into a blood fountain, I’m carrying the damn bag.” Her tone brokered no room for argument.

They began the short walk back to their apartment, walking hand-in hand. Jake couldn’t help but smile over at her while they walked.

She caught him looking after a moment, and asked, “What?”

“Nothing. Just love you. I’m sorry we failed so hard at relaxing.”

Amy laughed softly, shaking her head, “It’s not our forte. But I love you too.”

He leaned over, stopping their progress and planting a quick kiss on her lips, while his hands gently moved to cradle her middle. They kissed for a brief moment, pulling their faces inches apart.

“I got dried blood on your face.” he said stupidly.

Amy laughed again, wiping her own face with a towel, “No problem. It’s gonna be fluid city once this little guy gets here.”

“You’re the coolest wife ever.”

She smiled shyly, “Even when I’m a little crazy?”

“ _Especially_ , then.”

As it were, Amy did make dinner that night and gave Jake a pretty amazing foot rub. And while neither of them exactly won the game, he did make it a point the next day at work to let everyone know the origin story of his facial bruise. Yes, his pregnant wife had kicked his ass at basketball. He wasn’t a liar.

And the smile on Amy’s face when he did it, only reassured him that he’d really do anything to see her happy. Even embarrass himself. Though, that wasn’t exactly new, was it?

Their kid was gonna have Jake wrapped around his little finger.


End file.
